


Different

by MMonster



Series: bits and pieces of a second life well-lived [2]
Category: A Star is Born (2018)
Genre: Angst, Bad Parenting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Misogyny, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 14:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16976178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMonster/pseuds/MMonster
Summary: Jackson worries about his likeness to his dad.





	Different

They had just got back from an ultrasound, and Jack had been clutching the envelope with the sonogram images, grip careful but tight, for the whole 50 minutes drive from the doctor to their house. Ally was driving. She always did now, as they weren't out and about often enough to warrant keeping a driver around, and Jack felt much more comfortable at a motorcycle's handlebar than at a car's wheel. Ally, on the other hand, got her driving license just last year, and enjoyed taking any opportunity she got to practice.

They shared silence, Jack lost in his thoughts, looking out of the window. Ally turned the radio on, bopping her head along to some pop song that washed completely over Jack's ears. He glanced at her, couldn't help but smile at the scene. She smiled back, sweet and happy, her face a bit rounder now, skin glowing even though she had no make-up on, her shiny brown hair falling in waves over her shoulders. Jack loved her so much he had to look away for a moment to gather himself, the envelop on his hand feeling heavy. He swallowed dry, watched the city transform into fields as they got closer to their destination. Endless crops running outside the window, an infinitely boring sight if compared to his beautiful wife, singing along to a top-40 empty tune, happy and healthy and very pregnant with his baby.

Yet, he couldn't look at her. His throat felt tight, very tight. This was not the first, nor the second or third ultrasound they had done. And they did them all together. But it was the first in which they could really see. The little hands, fingers. The tiny feet, pushed up against the belly. How the baby moved inside, dancing or playing or just stretching a bit. The impossibly small nose, cupid's bow mouth, little perfectly formed ears. Jackson and Ally both had cried, tears flowing freely, seeing their child, really, for the first time. Ally was excited to find out the sex, but the baby refused to let it be known, moving around and around but never opening its legs.

Next time, he told her, next time they would see. Either way, he had no preference. Ally wanted a little girl, to dot and play dolls and tea with. She wouldn't mind a boy at all, assured Jack she would love her son just as much, and yet, she wanted a girl. Jack, secretly, wanted that too. A son, he might fuck up. Would for sure fuck up. He wasn't raised to know how to be affectionate with his father, with his brother. Wasn't raised to love men and let it be shown. He took years to be able to tell his brother how much he admired him. But if it turned out to be a girl, he would feel free to hug her and protect her and tell her she is strong, smart and beautiful, every day, for as long as she would let him.

Jack's childhood was a miss-match of half-forgotten, dreamed up images and memories so stark clear it's as if they happened last week. For as early as he could remember, his father was a present figure in his life. For his many sins, he was never an absent father. He was there, every day, every week, teaching Jack things he shouldn't know. His first drink, his first smoke, his first trip were all with his father, all before Jack hit the double digits.

He remembers, stark clear, the one time he found some magazines of his father, while he tried his very best at the age of 7 to gather the trash strewn around the place to make it livable. They were badly hidden under the bed, stains on some of the covers, three of them. Little Jack took them out, sat on the bed. There were women on the covers, wearing bikinis, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. He opened one, straight to a pretty brunette girl, bent in half, showing her privates to the world, a lascivious smirk on her lips. He stared, eyes wide. Turned the page to a red head.

His father caught him looking at the pictures a few minutes later. Jack startled, ready to bolt, expecting a beating. Instead, his father laughed, offered him a sip of the clear drink on his hand. It tasted like paint thinner, Jack drank it anyway. The man sat down on the bed, beside his son, took the magazine from his hand and looked at the woman displayed on the open page.

“Guess ya won't become a sissy, uh.” Was his opening comment. Jack didn't know what 'being a sissy' meant, but knew better than to ask. His father turned the pages, a look on his eyes Jack hadn't seen before. Something wanting and mean. He arrived at a picture, turned the magazine a little to let Jack see. It was a blonde woman, young looking, her expression a mimicry of innocence, unlike most of the others. She was looking up at the camera on her knees, breasts on display.

“T'is one looks like your mama.” And smiled wistfully, as if he honestly didn't understand what could be seen as wrong in showing such a thing to his son, and then saying that. Jack stared at the picture, he could see the woman's pubic hair peeking out from under her underwear. “A sweet one, she was.”

“What was she like?” Little Jack couldn't help himself. His father never talked about his mother.

“Like any woman, son. Weak-minded and troublesome. But she 'as a good one. Knew to keep her mouth shut, 'as a virgin when I got to her. Her parents wanted nothing to do with me, but she ran to me like a bitch in heat. I said som' sweet nothings to her to get her knickers wet and that 'as it.”

Jack always thought his father didn't talk about his mother because he loved her too much, missed her too much. But he understood, then. His father didn't talk about her because she didn't matter to him. She was just a woman, like all the others. Weak-minded and troublesome.

Jack was jerked out of the memory when they arrived at the house. Ally turned the radio off and sauntered out of the pick-up, stopping to pick the bags they had purchased earlier that day. Some baby things, some food. She left the heavier ones for him, which he gathered before climbing out after her. He followed her to the kitchen, where she was leaning on the counter, taking the things out of the bags, humming to herself. Jack felt almost strange, after immersing himself in that one memory, he felt like he should make it up somehow to Ally. That he ever heard words like those, that he was so young he had no choice but believe them when they fell out of his father's mouth. Jack got lucky that later his brother set him straight, that he met amazing women in his life that gave him no choice but recognize how his father was a man of his time, but he wasn't right. But for a while, he did believe the words.

He leaned his body against Ally's back, hugging her tightly but gently and kissing her cheek. He breathed deeply, her smell his favorite thing in the world since the first time he felt it. He put the envelope with the pictures of their baby in the counter in front of her.

“I love you” His voice caressed her ear, rough and soft at once. She turned around, smiling, kissed him.

“I love you too” She caressed his face, peppered kisses on it, before noticing he was looking down, something dark in his eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” She knew it got to be too much for him sometimes. He still got cravings, and some days were just hard.

“I'm fine… fine. I just-uh. I'm fine.” He cleared his throat. Ally looked at him, eyes narrowing. They had talked and talked about this, about him opening up to her, to somebody. About not pretending he was okay when he wasn't, how she wanted to know about his struggles.

He recognized that look. Gave her a forced half-smile, kissed her again.

“I am fine.” He reiterated. Took a deep breath. “Is just… I was remembering, you know, my father, growing up.” Ally waited for him to continue, patiently. “It was...” He took another deep breath, played with a strand of her hair, glanced up at her eyes before looking down again. “It was everything I don't want to be.” He finished, looking at her now, expression so deeply sad and resigned it tugged at Ally's heart. She felt her eyes watering. Damn hormones.

“I never knew your father. But I know you. You're a good man, Jack. The best I ever met.” Her voice rose with her earnestness.

Jack laughed, but it had no humor in it.

“I'm a fucking mess Al'. Always was. I'm just worried it's all I'm ever gonna be. A fucking mess.”

She opened and closed her mouth twice, before coming up with an answer.

“But you're a _good_ mess.”

That took Jack by surprise, pulling out from deep in his belly a full chuckle that grew into laughter. Ally started laughing with him, tears running down her face.

“Hey, don't cry.” He told her, when he noticed, capturing the tears with his fingers.

“It's these damn hormones. I can't wait to not be pregnant anymore and have our baby here in our arms with us.”

“I'm gonna miss you being pregnant.” He ran one hand over the curve of her belly, her heavy breasts almost spilling out from her dress. When he realized he was staring, he glanced up to find her looking at him, amused.

“Yeah, yeah, I know how much you gonna miss it.” She kissed him, hugged him tight. Pulled away to look into his eyes.

“You're going to be a great dad, Jack.” She said, voice decisive. He stared at the dip in her collarbone, avoiding her eyes. “You know how I know it? I know it, because you're like me, but worse. You know what it's like to be raised like shit. To learn everything wrong or to have to fend for yourself and to feel alone. My dad mostly managed to get his shit together later on, but for most of my life, he was a drunk. Couldn't get up in the morning to make sure I had gone to school. I forgave him because he tried and he managed to change. But I know what it was like, and so do you. So all we gotta do is the exact opposite of what was done to us, uh? So it's like, we already have the guide book.”

He looked up at her.

“That… is true.” Just by doing the opposite of what his father did he would already be an okay dad.

“Our baby is not going to grow up like we did. We remember what it was like, so we can use it to make sure it will never be reality again. Okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded. “But I'm still a mess.”

She kissed him.

“But you _are_ a good mess. And we will work together to make you less messy, alright? I will always help you.”

“Alright.”

There was no easy solution. Every day was hard, and would be hard probably until the very last one of them. Addiction just doesn't go away. Once it's with you, it will always be. But he was holding the only path to a better life in his arms. And Jack would be dammed if he was going to screw it up.

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback, okay? Make me happy, pls.


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